


A Life to Be Envied

by Trifoilum



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alex is Hispanic here, Coming Out, Emotional Recovery, M/M, Medium Burn, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Farmer, Other, Romance will come later, Self-Acceptance, Slice of Life, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, iyashikei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-07-15 14:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trifoilum/pseuds/Trifoilum
Summary: Basil swore to improve in Pelican Town.





	1. Thriving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm replaying my Stardew Valley run after a while, and omg there's a lot of changes, a lot of mods too. Simultaneously, some parts of my life seems to lie at a verge of a change.
> 
> So I'm restarting my playthrough with my partial self-insert character, and writing it down as a form of recovery. There are much better slow burn romance fics in this fandom already, so I'll be very likely to focus on the everyday life and my PC's recovery. But there will be romance...later on.
> 
> My PC (Basil Forrester) is a male-bodied nonbinary; given the limited category in AO3, do you think I should tag this as a M/M?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t the life they signed up for. And honestly? All of this could burn for all they cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting from the beginning, with some angst and a hint of performative gender expression for the sake of passing. Basil is a amab nonbinary who often presents as a cis male for the sake of passing.
> 
> Things will get better from here, I promise.
> 
> Also, unbeta-ed. Any grammatical errors would be accepted with open arms :D

What day is today?

Somehow, that simple question made Basil wanted to scream and cry and screaming while crying. Except they couldn’t, for a beast was haunting between these cubicles. Its name was Productivity, and its fangs were sharp.

With a camera hovering above each desk, there was enough threat to make them shiver and ignore the bubbling question. They continued filling in form after form with mindless efficiency, joining the cacophony of noises made from the combination of a dozen rickety air conditioners and at least a hundred keyboards. Decades-old printers and photocopiers shrieked elsewhere in a ghastly choir. A casual glance proved their suspicion that no one was looking at them. Every single one of their coworkers was fixing a stony stare at their screen. There wasn’t even any supervisor with a sudden influx of document to finish tonight, so could you please work overtime? Thank you _so_ much.

The feeling, pitch black and thick like tar, threatened to burst outside their chest again. While the feelings weren’t unfamiliar, not at all, it was the first time they bubbled from such trivial provocation.

Nevertheless, it was still office hours, so any emotional breakdown could and should wait until…

...until when?

Basil shook their head and finished another set of files.

These files were part of Joja’s latest initiative. A performance optimization, the project briefing had claimed; _switching to a more sophisticated system_ _to match our exponential growth rate_. Part of the _thrive_ from Joja’s honestly dystopian motto.

But _of course_ the new program used an entirely different type of file. The database was dated way before Basil was even born, which in itself said a lot about the damned corporation, and it had to be moved entirely by hand before the higher-ups could even think about silly things such as _training_. Honestly? This sounded like a project destined to fail; stalled and forgotten before it was even finished, with the budget vanishing somewhere along the process.

So, here they were. _Utterly_ _thriving_.

But nevermind. Nobody in these office dared to question the higher-ups’ arcane decisions and Basil themselves learned the virtue of prudence pretty quick. The walls here had sharp, sharp ears. The moment they entered this warehouse-slash-office space, they could easily see the reasons for the way the office was set up; all gray everything, stark neon lamps above them, cameras lined up above them … It was to break everyone’s spirit. Leave an irreparable crack and fill it with paranoia and obedience.

Smile,

You’re with Joja.

What an absolute bullshit.

Basil tightened their scarf. Because there were only a few more days until this damned winter reached its end, the management deemed it unnecessary to fix the heating until next winter. It took its toil on everyone. Even the skeleton.

(The skeleton had been seated at one of the cubicles as ‘decoration’. It would be less of a bullshit to call it an unspoken threat, or a guarantee for those hopeless enough to remain here for long.)

(Were they one of those hopeless ones?)

Second by second, they could feel the crack within their soul growing bigger and bigger. Violent thoughts began to leak; death rattles from a dying heart. Much as they wanted to, Basil couldn’t even scream.

A lot of things in their life were impossible—the mortgage, the lack of career progression, their own questionable future—but the most impossible one was the idea that this could go on any longer than it already had. Winter almost ended and Basil didn’t get to do anything; it was all work and eat and sleep. Any weekends not wasted at Joja were wasted on bed, licking up emotional wounds and staring at the numbing screen of their television and cellphone.

Zuzu City may be large but their citizens were cold and battered; finding a real human connection felt like a faraway promise that kept moving farther and farther. And the least said about their dating life, the better. It was hard enough to find a guy who didn’t mind with a _he_ beyond one night stands, Basil couldn’t dare exposing _their_ truth to anyone they brought to their tiny, dilapidated apartment.

This wasn’t the life they signed up for. And honestly? All of this could burn for all they cared.

Smile,

You’re with Joja.

What an absolute bullshit.

Click. Click. Save. Close. Shutdown. Let whoever took this seat after them finish the rest. Basil took a deep breath before opening the drawer to the side, peeking at its content with a whimper. Apparently they didn’t even have the strength to actually cry.

An old and yellowing envelope was waiting inside; the last safety net. A white flag waved. The last act of love from a grandpa, given with an uncanny precision of how their life would unfold except the gender.

 

Basil uttered a silent prayer and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onto Stardew Valley!


	2. Unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even now the realization still came as a bit of a sting, most of all because Basil was certain Grandpa liked them more than they liked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little backstory.

As much as they celebrated, Basil’s farewell from Zuzu City contained few genuine reactions.

Yes, the goodbye involved many people from all sorts of life and character. Yes, they had quite a few shared experiences, even joys.  And still Basil only received feigned pleasantries and false promises to visit each other someday. Not even the landlord commented on the abruptness, likely because there would be another soul filling in that closet-sized room before this week even passed. Worse, Basil couldn’t even blame them. Maybe things would be different if they had more time or energy, or at least more desire to know each other as opposed to a fair-weathered pursuit of a good time, but that just wasn’t the case.

So Basil left Zuzu City just as they had arrived an eternity ago: lonely and unfulfilled. Everything personal were packed into one huge suitcase before they took the night bus heading to Pelican Town.

The journey itself was long and rough, partially due to its old and rickety vehicle but also because the road was full of holes and slapdash fixes. Nobody couldn't even complain much; of what importance was the road to a quiet seaside town compared to the (rather unnecessary) conflict with Gotoro Empire?

(These little commentaries were part of the nagging things that drained Basil’s sanity, and as much as they understood how the war was Very Significant for both sides, keeping themselves updated had been so incredibly tiring. As much as it was unkind and privileged to think like this, Basil was glad to be away from it all. If only they knew.)

Nobody else was inside the bus. The sun began to rise and sleep proved to be impossible so Basil leaned their head against the vaguely dusty window and stared outside because the bright purples on the cushions had been worn out and smeared with brown and _ew_. But the sights were so _green_. All nature, instead of the kind of green meticulously arranged to appease some lacking city ordinance. They seemed to be an isolated world within itself; growing without any care of mankind and their greed, and life on the farm would make Basil intimately familiar with both brown and green.

Even now the realization still came as a bit of a sting, most of all because Basil was certain Grandpa liked them more than they liked him.

He was by all means a fine grandfather to them but Sage Forrester lived to his name and preferred the solitude of the valley more than his own family. Meanwhile Julia Charleston may never be a homemaker but she never really stopped living her life until her last breath and Basil’s view of both Grandpa and Stardew Valley might have been affected by that. Fresh air and flower crowns would never drive away their memory of Grandma: her bright laughter, her determined voice as she defended clients at court, or the suddenness with which she passed away. She certainly was part of why Basil moved to Zuzu City.

But that was then and neither Grandpa nor Grandma was here now. It was just Basil, on their own, battered and bruised as the metropolis chewed them up and spitted them out.

Basil slid the window open and took a long inhale, smelling the unfamiliar scent of spring. At least two more hours would pass before the bus arrived at Pelican Town, where all necessities had been arranged with the mayor Lewis, who was indeed still alive.

The year had just begun and everything was a huge question mark.

Basil swore to improve in Pelican Town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charleston was the name for my first farm, which I played years ago, and Forrester is the name of my second farm, which I'm playing now.  
> Also yay for theme naming. At least Basil as a name is pretty gender neutral, compared to, say, Rosemary.


	3. Screaming, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first and second time Basil screamed in Stardew Valley.

The first time Basil screamed in Stardew Valley happened roughly minutes after they arrived.

Not because of other people, no. Both Mayor Lewis and Robin had been perfect; warm and engaging without being too obvious about it, enough to suggest that parts—or all—of it were real. There were zero expectations and that was practically the best introduction the youth could ever hope for.

And the cottage itself was surprisingly decent.

….Okay, that was part lie. Basil could easily imagine what the listing for this place would be: “A rustic, cozy cottage built in a up and coming area, open concept with lots of natural charm,” a.k.a, this shit old and tiny. The only possible form of entertainment was a bulky television set dating at least two decades old and having no more than three channels memorized inside it.

Not only was their old apartment slightly bigger, it also had a small kitchen and _fricking indoor plumbing._  

But whoever built this must have planned it to last for decades, if not forever. Basil dropped their luggage and sat on the bed, bouncing a few times to test the mattress before spreading their fingers all over the cheap bedsheet. They were all completely new, thank goodness. The idea of sleeping on a deathbed was kind of unnerving.

For all the lack of air conditioning, the air here didn’t feel as hot or stifling compared to Zuzu City. Everything was built with the same unassuming three, maybe four types of wood and yet in some ways the building reminded Basil of Grandpa Sage: unassuming, silent, yet possessing an invisible strength that was actually sort of stubborn. Only the ceiling looked like it was recently renovated, its color remaining a vivid brown. Despite the ageing walls, no drafts were blasting from the outside. The weathered, wide-plank floors still endured their reckless steps without complaining.

Most of all, there was no morning traffic, no noisy neighbors next door whose day they could guess from the ruckus they were making. In fact, there were no other people as far as they could see and it made the cottage felt much larger, isolated. The building truly has genuine character, and the same couldn’t be said for their brutalistic cage of an apartment.

It was six past ten in Monday. Last week, the youth would still be struggling to wake up around the same time, head pounding from several drinks too many and crushed by all the looming projects waiting to be worked on. There was no time to wallow or even to whine, because they would get sluggish if they didn’t have a proper breakfast and Joja loathed anything that hindered their workers from _thriving_ properly.

The absolute lack of urgency struck them at somewhere tender and aching.

As Basil clenched the soft blanket on their hands, a tar-like substance started bubbling inside their chest and burning their throat with the urge to _feel_. Old wounds, finally deciding now was the perfect time to stop holding back and start bleeding before partaking in their recovery.

It coiled tight,

Pierced through the last of the youth’s defenses,

And burst free in a mangled scream that no one heard.

It was so damn cathartic.

******

The second time Basil screamed in Stardew Valley happened at the end of the day. To be fair, it was fruitful.

While the farm was far from the idyliic paradise often dreamed by broken city souls, Basil included, it was easier now to imagine why someone would spend their entire life here. They took _two whole hours_ strolling around the space and only half of them were spent wading through debris. Everything smelled of the soil, the sun, mingling with the freshness from all sort of trees into a bouquet of life. A couple of birds were whistling and singing and hooting in between the rustling of branches.

Luckily they had the foresight to wear their old sneakers and a farm-friendly outfit before coming here.

But yes, the debris. Apparently Mother Nature had already taken the entire farm and claimed it as part of the surrounding forest. There was even a broken ruin of glass and steel that might have been a greenhouse once upon a time and how much did a greenhouse cost, again? Any ideas of renovating the farm would take time, effort, and money they just didn’t have, so Basil started easy and focused on the small space in front of their house, needing only a couple of steps to reach the small pond at the other side.

The area would be perfect for several batches of crops, and the target basically popped at that moment.

_Get used to the feel of a tool >>>>>> Clear enough space for planting >>>>>> Start filling this area with crops>>>>>> Yay._

Now, where to start? And what to start with?

All of the tools Basil received looked plain, yet practical. Most likely handmade, although the now-farmer couldn’t really pinpoint why. Either way it certainly didn’t seem like both Robin and Mayor Lewis were being frugal with them. For someone used to the metropolis’ every-person-for-themselves mindset, this only increased Basil’s opinion of the two. They felt truly welcomed.

Next, the former desk jockey tried figuring out which tool are the safest to use. A watering can was out of the question, and using a hoe would be impossible with all the things crowding over the soil, so that meant trying the pickaxe. Its handle was new and sturdy, the tips looking sharp enough to break stones.

And sure, with a forceful swing, a stone shattered into several smaller pieces and Basil squealed in delight. Numerous times, in fact. For a while, they enjoyed the strange feeling and swung the pickaxe again and again before their muscles started trembling. Their legs gave way before they could even reach twenty and Basil had to take a moment to stagger towards one of the larger trees.

Muscles began to groan and their clothes were practically drenched as they heaved and heaved. So this was farm work. The sun had risen directly over them and this whole area needed to be cleaned fast if they wanted to start planting things today.

They were no longer in Joja, though, so Basil slumped down and leaned their head against the barky surface of a pine tree. “What a mess,” they laughed after a while, using the back of their hand to wipe out the sweat raining down their face. “But I’ll survive this too.”

This was absolutely some divine punishment for their sedentary lifestyle but again, nothing compared to the convoluted web of red tapes and smokescreen that was Joja.

“I’ll survive, start farming all sorts of shit, and _thrive_.” There was a pause before Basil spat at one of the stone pieces laying on the ground, shivering. “Thank goodness I won’t ever have to hear that cursed word anymore.”

Arms stretched high at the thick branches above them, a strange feeling began to grow between the drying cracks of the now-farmer’s heart, buoyant and glimmering with gold as opposed to the pitch blackness they were used to. Swinging these tools was not as dangerous as they thought as long as they were careful. Therefore, after resting they needed to pick between the axe or the scythe to clear enough space for the parsnip seeds they received. The former might be safe enough if they kept their feet steady, but the latter might be safe if they swung it far enough from their body.

Soils were ultimately tilled and seeds were planted and watered. Basil even managed to take some of the assorted seeds scattered between the blades of grasses and planted them too. All of today’s exertion ultimately crushed them way too early, and they were already burrowing inside their new bed before the sun could set entirely, but they felt really good. Their dirty-ass clothes were changed into a fluffy sleeping gown, cool against the evening air.

Tomorrow they would visit Pelican Town. Hopefully the villagers would be fine with their presence, but it would be alright even if they weren’t. Basil already got the mayor’s acceptance.

And if they were accepted?

The new feeling inside them continued its spread even further, warm and enthusiastic, and the farmer finally realized what it was.

Hope.

It felt so refreshing, especially after years of substituting it with empty dreams and perseverance.

And this time, the scream Basil let out was squealing and full of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered the initial home as _genuinely_ lacking any indoor plumbing. Grandpa probably showered and pooped outside.
> 
> Also, here we have a little deviation from canon; namely the ability to change clothes anytime. Although there were mods for this exact purpose, I didn't use them in the game proper.
> 
> Next, Basil introduces themselves! And also meeting their love interest as strangers! Also some passing woes that were ultimately crushed against the wholesome aura of Stardew Valley!


	4. Hot Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly a love at first sight, that had little to do here, but _damn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning : Thoughts about passing, toxic masculinity, and femmephobia in gay dating culture, a really short and innocuous scene misgendering, coming out. See the end notes for more.
> 
> The realities of being an enby isn't this simple. I myself remained looking like a cis male because the risk is not something I can bear. But this is a fantasy in a wholesome land, so I'm taking artistic liberties.
> 
> ALSO WE'RE SAILING ON A SHIP!!!!! SO SOON!!!!

From what they could see from the entrance, Pelican Town felt like the kind of place where nothing much happened and was better for it. The houses were sparse, a couple of places looked dilapidated or outright abandoned, and there weren’t even any moving vehicles. At the same time, life still pulsed within every blocks of this town: in the way the wind carried life and the New Year promises, in every inch of the clean, well-cared street, in the pots of blooming flowers under the sun.

Basil snapped a few pictures at their smartphone and frowned at the lack of signal bars. Apparently there wasn’t any mobile phone coverage around the farm, or even the town itself. Welp.

Just to make sure, they pointed their smartphone up to the sky. Subtly widening their legs to the side and whispering a Masked Protector phrase, pretending brilliant rays of light would sparkle from the gadget.

_Transform!!!_

They giggled at themselves when—of course—nothing happened, feeling somewhat glad that nobody was around the town square. And yep, there was no signal. Time to accept the harsh truth.

Basil was about to go around the town when they realized their mistake. Someone was there.

A Hot Guy was there, just a couple of steps away from the farmer, under a huge tree near a group of houses.

Hot Guy had a deep tan and a short, gelled hair. He was also tall and built like a brickhouse, with the old-looking letterman jacket unable to really cover his bulking arms or the way his shirt stretched wide across his pecs. He was playing alone with a gridball and _of course he was,_ his existence alone was proof enough that there must be a gym in this town because no way that kind of physicality could be made or maintained anywhere else. His shirt would bunch up every time he raised his arms, revealing a sliver of rock hard abs underneath and oh no. Oh no.

Breath caught in a hitch, the farmer were suddenly becoming very aware of how dirty they were, dust and dirt on their jeans and sweat dampening their shirt, and yet they couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. Like a moth to a forest fire; just like the worst cliché in the kind of romances made for teens half their age—

Not exactly a love at first sight, that had little to do here, but _damn_.

Of course, that was the moment when Hot Guy looked at their direction, flashing a toothy grin that was as cocky as it was blazing hot.

Basil didn’t really know what went on inside their head, but they were overcome by the need to **run** , and so they did. Their face was burning.

******

Their huge luggage was opened wide with its contents bursting all over the bed, the floor, the dining table and the sole dining chair.

It was only the second day and the farmer was already in real deep shit.

“Oh, goodness, what to do?” Basil asked to themselves, worrying his bottom lips between his teeth. Their hands pulled their unicorn hair in frustration, clawing each pastel-colored hair as nervous, panicked footsteps echoed across the cottage. Regardless how they immediately took a quick wash by the small pond outside their farm, nervous sweat already started to form on their light brown skin.

After circling the cottage a couple of times, they bent down and picked another pair of jeans as well as their other flannel shirt. “Should I just follow yesterday’s style? Is that why both the Mayor and Robin received me so well?”

Years in Zuzu City had at least gotten them a diverse set of wardrobe but truth was, Basil was not that good when it came to dressing themselves _appropriately_ for a situation. For example, the simple, practical style they used yesterday may be appropriate here but intentionally replicating that again felt like an act of style blindness, as if being a farmer meant they give no fucks about dressing nicely. They did; they just have no idea when the occasion in question involved total strangers—a small village of total strangers, no less. There was no neighborly hello in Zuzu City. Basil didn’t even _know_ their neighbors, except that there was no Hot Guy around their old apartment.

Okay, there was one, but he was a grade A sexist douchebag so fuck him, really. In fact, that phrase could describe all the Hot Guys they were involved in the past. And no, it wasn’t only about sexuality, because the ones looking for men were also _masc4masc, no sissy no fat, manly looking for manly._

But yes, sexuality also matters, because so many of them were so afraid of being seen together with someone like Basil they got violent. And they hadn’t even touched the elusive, complicated idea of passing.

The farmer clenched their teeth, feeling like they were being flayed alive. The rose gold-colored gadget was tossed at the bed as they started to roughly pull out skirts and jackets. “No, no. It’s just a casual neighborly visit. You don’t need to try so hard.”

A frilly skirt was tossed together with a leather jacket. They looked at a streamlined blue dress they got on a clearing sale. A long leather jacket was spread wide on the bed when a thought made them stop.

When it came to obligation, Joja never really looked kindly to any sparks of individuality beyond a performance review and even that was bound to suffer against the ruthless office culture and their everyone-must-suffer-together mindset. But this was not Joja and they already had enough of passing as a cis man.

“Should I try hard? I mean, I don’t even bring anything to give—oh goodness, _should I put on some makeup?_ ”

At the same time, though, dressing too masculine or feminine had its own risk.

“Or _maybe_ I should dress more androgynous instead, leave no room for any misgendering,” Basil mumbled to themselves, clutching close to their chest a monochromatic pair of billowy skirt and long cardigan. “Not that being nonbinary always meant being androgynous, but… Making it really obvious might be more beneficial in the long run. No?”

So nobody would call them _liar_ again.

All of these were tossed away once again and the youth lightly slapped their cheek numerous times.

“No, no, bad Basil!”

Pressing their palms in a mock meditation pose, the youth started to blow in and out with their mouth. Courage went in, fear went out. “Stop thinking with such an adversarial mindset. This is just your first time meeting everyone, and that also includes Hot Guy.”

They actually looked forward to it. Looked forward to meeting new people and cultivating better relationship than the ones they had before. Suspicion would do them no good; in fact they could lead to a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“Dress your joy, find your bliss, speak your truth,” repeated the youth several times, a faux-spiritual mantra from a wellness centre they had been to a few times before the trial period was over. Fight a cliché with another cliché.

If their life was shaping up to be a teen romance movie, then wouldn’t it be better to follow the script?

Everything was finally sort of sorted by noon, with the farmer settling into a purple-and-white striped t-shirt and billowy, wide-legged cropped pants for the touch of androgyny. A flowery chiffon cardigan added a little dressy touch, thin fabric flying wherever the wind was blowing, but they compensated by wearing their same old sneakers coupled with a pair of black socks going up their legs.

For the finishing touch, a daffodil flower was picked on their way back to Pelican Town and tied around a knot leather bracelet, bright yellow petals blooming like a miniature star.

“Dress your joy, find your bliss, speak your truth,” mumbled the farmer, inhaling the soft fragrance.

They looked nice. They felt nice. And if anything, now was the perfect time to start over and present themselves in the way they wanted it to be. If Hot Guy couldn’t take that—well, tough luck.

Rather than carrying their pain, Basil would rather carry their newly found hope.

******

Hot Guy was still playing alone with his gridball, and the sight looked lonely and strange; people like him usually had a gaggle of adorers from all sex and genders. For them, someone like Basil was just part of the decoration at best, and at worst— well, they would have ran far, far away before things could reach that point.

At the idea of running, however, this time Basil’s stomach soured. “Stop thinking with such an adversarial mindset, Basil,” they murmured, clutching their cardigan’s flopping tail. “Dress your joy, find your bliss, speak your truth.”

With a huff, Basil walked towards Hot Guy and thrusted a hand forward, making sure to give their brightest smile. “Hi! I’m Basil. I just moved here. Nice to meet you!”

There was a moment of confusion, as he would likely try to reconcile the sweaty mess he just saw and what Basil looked now, but ultimately the hand gripping Basil’s back was firm, a little rough, and huge. “Hey! You’re the new girl, huh? I think we’re going to get along great. I’m Alex,” he said while pulling them close for a bro hug.

Hot Guy—Alex smelled of sweat, fresh and masculine, and for a while, a burst of wishful thinking wondered if maybe they should stay quiet, but no. They had enough passing.

“Oh. I’m not…a girl. Sorry.” Basil twitched, and widened their smile into a grin as they let go of Alex.

“You’re not? So—“

“I’m nonbinary, actually,” they said without taking their eyes away. _Goodness, he’s hot._ “Neither a guy, or a girl. Sometimes I lean more to one team, but never really….permanently.”

Any time now, he’ll react with something nasty, slap their hand and then their crush were going to wither and die in record time, and then—

“So it’s like being a free agent?”

Wait. “What?”

Alex shrugged, but he wasn’t frowning. In fact, he was grinning with just the barest hint of cocky amusement, propping both arms on his waist in a confident gesture. “You’re not signed with any team, so that makes you an unrestricted free agent.”

“Oh! Yeah!” said Basil in a borderline shriek, braincells zapping everywhere in panic. Suddenly they felt the need to look everywhere else except Alex’s jade-colored eyes.

 _Unrestricted free agent + that pair of modern-looking shoes + that gridball he’s holding =_ “Do you play gridball!?” Basil almost yelled. “That—that shoes you’re wearing, a Tunneler is modeling for them, isn’t he? I think I saw the advertising in Zuzu.”

_Please, please don’t ask which Tunneler._

Alex didn’t, instead looking very pleased. “Yeeeah; fifty-freaking-two TDs last season! D’ya like it? Wait a minute, do you play gridball?”

“Yes! I mean, I never played, but I like watching them,” they blurted. Basil knew so little of gridball beyond water cooler chat and the occasional match playing when they were hanging out, but they really couldn’t stop talking. “Last season was awesome, don’t you think?”

“Yeah! Man, this is awesome.” Alex playfully shoved their chest with one hand, and Basil almost staggered. “What d’ya think of getting a taste of gridball? I can always use a partner.”

 _No wait this is too much Basil don’t blush it’s not an innuendo._ “I’m, um, not really dressed for it? Besides I need to, uh, introduce myself around town.”

There was a little frown, but Alex ultimately shrugged. “Fair point, dude—is dude okay?”

“Oh, sure. As long as we’re on the same page, I’m even alright with Bro. I understand sometimes they can be a gender neutral term.”

“Awesome, dudebro.” Alex offered a fist, and Basil lightly tapped the knuckles with their own. “Also, say hi to Grandma if you’re going to the clinic. I think she’ll like you.”

“Y-yeah. I will. See you soon, Alex.”

“Catch ya later, bro.” Alex flashed that game-winning grin once again before Basil practically skipped away, making sure they were well shielded from the jock before crouching down and hugging their knees, biting their first so they wouldn’t any kind of weird noises.

There were a lot of weird noises they would like to make right now.

There were a lot of things to unpack, but needless to say everything seemed to go on really well.

Thank goodness.

“Dress your joy, find your bliss, speak your truth,” sighed Basil with relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exact paragraph is, "And no, it wasn’t only about sexuality, because the ones looking for men were also _masc4masc, no sissy no fat, manly looking for manly._ But yes, sexuality also matters, because so many of them were so afraid of being seen together with someone like Basil they got violent. And they hadn’t even touched the elusive, complicated idea of passing."
> 
> Also, Alex accidentally misgendered Basil, but he learned up quick.
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> YES WE'RE GETTING SHIPPY. Alex is no doubt my Stardew Bae, y'all. Because this fic is about Basil's life I won't put all focus on their relationship, but let me just put it out here that they will get together before Year 2 Summer passed. It's practically what happened with both my runs and I only gave him a single birthday gift on the second run. Quite an intense friends-to-lovers scenario.
> 
> I'm also intentionally pulling a romcom here. Don't know why, to be honest.
> 
> And we have our next canon divergence: smartphones. It ain't going to stay for long, though.
> 
> Fun fact, my first Basil is white (I'm imagining the English Rose kind of white), but I'm imagining my second Basil as Indian. So here, they are mixed race.  
> Also, I'm actually using the Hispanic Alex mod. Do you think I should make him Latino, stick to canon, or just keep him vague?
> 
> Next, snippets of how Basil actually starts introducing themselves!


	5. Introduction, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a nice concidence that 2 Spring is the day Evelyn goes for her annual checkup.

“Hello!”

With Basil’s entrance to the town clinic, the young nurse behind the counter stopped what she was doing and looked up at the approaching farmer, returning their bright smile with equal enthusiasm.

“Oh, hi! You must be Basil. I’m Maru. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”

“I’m so glad to hear that, and to meet you too,” said Basil pleasantly, euphoria still running inside their blood. They leaned on the counter, feeling the coolness of the acrylic top, and looked around the empty waiting room. It was a comforting space of cool green wallpapers and clean white floors, with decades-old paintings and fading informative posters hung on the walls. The chairs lining to their right looked old but not used and that gave the farmer a slightly comforting feeling.

Looking down, they caught a glimpse of what she must have been doing before. On a piece of used legal paper was a series of detailed sketches depicting multiple perspectives of something resembling an offspring of a car battery and an octopus, tentacles jutting from multiple spots.

“That looks _incredible_ ,” commented Basil.

Maru grinned. “Thanks! Although this one’s honestly more conceptual if you ask me.” With her pen, she started pointing out several spots and circling another. “Like, the interior needs a more efficient design with my available materials, and I don’t think the chassis could be shaped like this without some massive increase in size and energy cost, but I’m still exploring potentials. What do you think?”

“Hm!” Folding their arms, the farmer made a sharp noise in their throat, focused without really understanding what they were focusing on. “Maybe add… a drill… at the end? For functional purposes?”

The clock on the wall ticked loudly against the silence while the nurse tilted her head with a blank expression.

Slowly, with face frozen in a smile, they drifted their eyes downcast. “That’s probably not going to work, isn’t it.”

Maru looked like she just heard a pleasant joke. “Well, I won’t say that. Drills are certainly interesting but I don’t think they are going to do much inside a heart?”

“Ohhh…..” Basil grimaced, and Maru snorted.

“I think Stardew Valley’s going to be good for you. Also, you know, with a small town like this, a new face can alter the community dynamic. It’s exciting!”

Their shoulders rose to their ears, contrite. “Exciting like a festival or like a car crash..?”

“Naw, more like atoms?” Lips slightly pursed, Maru started raising her hands in a certain distance between each other and wiggled the fingers around. “It’s kind of like, sure, two objects may not necessarily affect each other directly, but just its presence alone will change things at a molecular level?”

“Hmm.” Each second passed made the creases on the farmer’s forehead sunk deeper.

Her right hand closed its fingers except one and circled the air. “Of course, there’s also the sociological and ecological impact you’re carrying as a farmer. I think those ones are more easily visible with the naked eye, but I’m probably not the person you should ask about them. Now, if you’re talking robots? I’m definitely your girl.”

Basil almost frowned as they considered her words. “I’m not going to go nuclear, am I?”

The nurse shrugged playfully, as if saying _who knows_. “All I can say is that you have inspired much tangent already, so at least it’s going to be entertaining. Anyway! Why are you here? Are you looking for some energy tonics? A checkup?”

“Well, if you have a cure for a compulsion to jam your feet in your mouth, sure.” Basil laughed awkwardly as Maru snickered. “But for now, I’m just introducing myself around. Is the doctor in? Wait—are you the doctor?”

“Naw, that’s sweet of you. But I think you’re coming at the perfect time.” With her pen, she pointed at the door just right beside the counter. “Go through that door and turn left, and then take the door to the right. I’ll follow in just a minute.”

“Is the doctor busy?”

“Naw, he’s just doing our annual checkup. And Mrs. Mullner still looks as healthy as a horse. Go, quickly!”

******

A hallway of white greeted Basil when they opened the door, looking empty but as clean and well-cared as a clinic could ever be. The patient beds to the right were all bathed in sunlight, empty, and smelled vaguely of bleach. Slender fingers were sorting out the creases on their cardigan as the farmer headed left and turned to the right door.

Alex’s words filled in the lack of sounds. _Say hi to Grandma if you’re going to the clinic. I think she’ll like you._

_I think she’ll like you._

_I think I’ll like –_

“Wait wait wait.” Basil waved the air above them away. “I’m not old enough to have fake memories.”

They sighed.

“Definitely young enough to still have a crush.”

They sighed once again before straightening their pose.

Muffled sounds from a pleasant conversation could be heard from outside, stopping the moment Basil knocked on the glass panel.

“Come in,” said a male voice.

Inside the small room, a man in his thirties was examining an old woman, and they both looked at Basil.

“Um, hi?” the farmer smiled a little, folding their arms behind their back and also swaying a little. “I’m so sorry to bother you, I just wanted to say hi.“

“Oh, nonsense. You’re not bothering by any means, dear,” waved the old woman, her voice slow and warm. “However, do come over here so I could see you properly. See, my eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”

Basil stepped closer and knelt down so they were looking at the old woman face-to-face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Basil and I’m the new farmer.”

 “Why, hello and welcome to our little community, dear! I’m Evelyn. Are you Sage’s grandson?”

The hands reaching for their face were full of wrinkles, but they were also firm and gentle and brought back images of Grandma Julia, pinching their cheeks fondly whenever they watched her working in her small kitchen that smelled more of old papers and coffee than food. If Basil had neither homework to finish nor cartoons to watch then she would call them from the living room and little Basil’s eyes would twinkle with excitement as they sat in front of her.

Instead of manila folders and thick books full of small letters, plates of _mawa cakes_ and _murukku_ would be placed on the table. Ammamma would had her steel dabarah tumbler filled with coffee, black and still too bitter for their taste while a large mug of sweetened milk would pipe their fragrance right in front of Basil’s nose. Before beginning her tale, she would shuffle the hot liquid between the glass and the bowl a few times before leaning forward, smiling cheekily like they were about to share a secret and said, “Now this is just between you and me—“

Basil bit their lip, their breath shaking, and stuttered to Evelyn the things they couldn’t manage to tell Ammamma until the end. “Grandchild, actually.”

Tenderly, one of Evelyn’s fingers wiped the beginning of tears building on Basil’s eye, and the old woman smiled softly. “You can call me ‘Granny’ if you like.”

Evelyn was so different from Ammamma, but the farmer still resisted the urge to hug her like they would many years ago. “That would be perfect, Granny.”

The doctor patiently waited until Basil stood up and sorted themselves out before offering his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harvey, the local doctor. I perform regular check-ups and medical procedures for all the residents of Pelican Town.”

Basil smiled blankly at Harvey for a few seconds before accepting his hand. “What a majestic moustache,” remarked the farmer way too loudly before they closed their mouth in abject horror.

Before any apology could be made, however, not only did the owner of the moustache in question laughed, Evelyn also did.

And so was Maru, who had been standing in front of the room for who knows how long. “I told you to shave, Doctor!” she roared.

“You don’t understand, Maru,” Shoulders hunched and sighing lightly, the doctor grinned lightheartedly at Basil. “It’s just too much work. They grew so quickly…”

 “Ah, I think you look dashing, Doctor. Just like one of those movie stars in my time…” commented Evelyn with a faraway tone. “Very… macho.”

Harvey buried his face in his hands, Maru roared even louder, and Basil tried their best not to giggle much.

******

After having a pleasant small talk, Basil discovered that Maru is Robin’s daughter, which explained her enthusiasm, and Evelyn lives with her husband aside with Alex.

“He’s a good boy, but he spent too much time with me and his grandpa… I’m sure he will do well with having more friends his age,” said Evelyn, hands clasped idly on her lap.

Keeping themselves from asking about his parents, Basil decided it was time to stand up and head somewhere else. “I will try my best to be his friend,” said the farmer, not at all lying.

“Anyway, before you’re leaving,” interrupted Maru. “Here, Basil, your registration form.”

The farmer glanced at the slip of paper, then back at both doctor and nurse.

“It’s for your initial checkup,” said Harvey, tone professional. “Because you just moved, I think it’s better to do it as early as possible to see if you have any allergies in this season or otherwise. Then we can prescribe you some anti-allergy medications if necessary.”

“Oh,” mumbled the farmer, “But, uh, I—“

“Don’t worry, you can leave blank any part you’re uncomfortable of filling in.“

“Ah,” they stuttered again. Fidgeted left and right and blushing a bit. “Th-thank you, but I just moved here so…I have a very tight budget.”

Maru grinned and nudged Basil’s shoulder. “Now don’t you worry; the good doctor has appealed for the Mayor to subsidize your initial checkup.”

“And every villager also gets a free annual checkup, also paid fully by the town,” added Harvey. “For you, I recommend doing it late in the year so we can see how living in Stardew Valley will affect your body, but of course it’s your choice.”

“Wow. This is… surprisingly progressive,” commented Basil, turning the paper back and forth.

“We’re basically trying to keep people from moving out.” This time Harvey’s smile was tinged with melancholy. “That’s okay. It’s rewarding work,” he said, and it felt like some form of reassurance. Question was, to whom.

Basil said nothing, not sure if there was anything to say or do right now besides giving Harvey their most reassuring smile before saying their goodbyes and leaving the clinic. Few seconds passed in quiet contemplation as the farmer stared at the form they were holding, then the large building right beside them. A heartbeat-like pounding typical of amplified bass was somehow emanating from Pierre’s General Store, reminding the farmer of the clubs they liked to go every now and then. Beside the door was a bulletin board, its wood comparatively old against the new calendar.

Smiling, the farmer folded the form into a small square, enough to slip inside the narrow pockets of their pants before pushing the door open. 

“Hello!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ammamma = maternal grandmother in Tamil.  
> [Mawa cake](http://www.bawibride.com/mawa-cakes/)  
> [Murukku](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murukku)  
> Julia is probably drinking [filter coffee](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_filter_coffee), black and bitter ~~just like her heart~~
> 
> It's kind of interesting writing an extended introduction. Basil keep shoving their foot inside their mouth and they wished to inform you guys that THEY ARE USUALLY NOT THIS BAD OKAY?
> 
> I....squint my eye. Skeptically.
> 
> Next, what happens in Pierre's General Store?


	6. Introduction, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world remained the same, but they were already a different person.  
> And instead of looking back they could just move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW : Accidental misgendering.

Despite the building being one of the bigger ones in Pelican Town, Pierre’s General Store itself was roughly the size of a minimarket. Behind—or beside—the store, a pretty retro pop song was playing loudly, evoking memories when Basil would spend their hard-earned money on one of the many clubs in Zuzu City, a necessarily tithe to quell the quiet screaming of their soul after yet another week in Joja.

Which was here, apparently.

From the counter, the eponymous Pierre scrunched his face as he grumbled. “Well, yes, they have built their cursed nest here; have been for a couple of years. They actually aimed for your grandfather’s farm too, but things happened and the plan went into development hell, bless Yoba. Not that I can blame Mayor Lewis. Things had been…tight,” he added, as if trying to avoid the impression of complaining about the mayor.

Basil considered his words and kept their face in a polished facade of polite professionalism, neither enraging enough for a reproach nor engaging enough to provoke further words.

_All of the tools Basil received looked plain, yet practical. Most likely handmade, although the now-farmer couldn’t really pinpoint why. Either way it certainly didn’t seem like both Robin and Mayor Lewis were being frugal with them._

_Life still pulsed within every blocks of this town: in the way the wind carried life and the New Year promises, in every inch of the clean, well-cared street, in the pots of blooming flowers under the sun._

_“And every villager also gets a free annual checkup, also paid fully by the town.”_

_“We’re basically trying to keep people from moving out.”_

In a flash, things suddenly clicked into an atrocious picture. “Of course the fund’s gotta come from somewhere,” chuckled the farmer with a bit of wry humour.

“Well, yes, they offered good money to the mayor,” Pierre sucked the air on his teeth, a gesture slightly too telling in its unprofessionalism, “But I’ll tell you what they lack: community participation.”

“Oh, I think they’ll participate in the community alright if someone gives them the leeway,” they said, fingers playing with the daffodil petals on their wrist. “They need the community docile and flourishing enough to reach profitability—thus, corporate social responsibility.”

Pierre banged a fist on the counter. “And that’s how they’re going to sink their fangs deep, siphoning our riches to some suits in a big city so they can get their fancy vacation.”

“I can see this town being one of those fancy destination.” Basil gave a delicate wisp of a laugh, much too feminine than the one they used to give. The urge to run away appeared again—this time under a very different context.

A crow cawed from far, as if speaking of an ill portend.

******

A sense of restlessness was feasting on Basil’s entire being. Finding a spot free from Pierre’s watchful gaze was difficult but the farmer found it all the same, almost pressing on the wall separating them with the music. There, the youth pressed two fingers on their temple to alleviate the sudden throbbing in their head.

Four shelves were shoved into two long rows, where a sad array of products sat in very limited variety and amount, cooking oils beside bags of rice beside jars of pasta sauce beside breakfast cereals. On their left, wooden boxes of (fresh?) seasonal produce were waiting for customers. All of this suggested they were carefully ordered, a.k.a these are what the citizens of Pelican Town liked to consume.

Rapid beats faded into the next song, equally retro and equally upbeat, and if they were in one of those seedy clubs that didn’t ask much detail they would have skipped drinking and joined the writhing masses, groovin’ and shakin’ what their Mama gave ‘em. It usually helped forgetting their life if only for a short few hours, drowning the weight inside their heart under killer tracks and sick beats.

Once in a blue moon, when they were feeling confident enough, they might even found a warm body to have fun with.

But they were not inside a club and really, there was no one to blame other than themselves for deluding that Pelican Town would be a paradise divorced from human troubles.

The world remained the same.

And yet deep inside their heart something felt different, was different, a clear demarcation between Now and Then. As if seeking proof, Basil dragged their focus on columns of shampoos and liquid soap in front of them, noting the slight uptick in prices. The cost of not having a nation-wide supply chain, one could suppose.

Sure, it felt awful to meet Joja again so soon but the fact that this was not Zuzu City worked as a double-edged sword. If they looked back, they were sure all the pain would still be there, pitch black and thick like tar. But ahead of them was an empty space waiting to be filled.

They were finally picking up a bottle of shampoo for dyed hairs when they heard Pierre clearing their throat from the other side of the room.

“Farmer Basil?”

Turning around, the youth saw Pierre’s back facing them as he counted and sorted out the fresh produce, a clipboard in hand.

“Just between you and me, I accept a temporary delay of payment when it comes to non-farm related supplies.”

Basil clutched the red bottle to their chest. “And how would we do that?”

He turned to face the farmer, smiling brightly. “It can be arranged so the payment will be taken directly from your shipment. If you want, we can even make the payment periodical. I assure you it will remain interest-free for as long as you stay here.”

Slowly, Basil’s lips curved upwards. “I suppose this is your way of fighting back.” While they were at it, they also picked a tube of conditioner, facial cleanser, and a large bottle of liquid soap. None of these were what the farmer was used to, but they needed as much cleaning products as they could get.

The middle-aged man flashed a grin. “And for all farmers, there’s a special discount for farming supplies, applied forever. Seeds, fertilizers, saplings, you name it. I’ll go even further and extend it to wallpaper and flooring, just for you.”

“Because you’re going to sell my products either way.”

“It seems obvious to develop a good relationship with your neighbors, especially when they are also your future supplier.” Pierre puffed his chest slightly. Whatever flaws he might have, a lack of confidence was not one of them. Admirable, especially after engaging in a direct competition with JojaMart for so long. “But I also have a lot of confidence in you specifically, and rarely am I a bad judge of character.”

Fake as they might be, his words caused a spark within the farmer. If they wanted to stay afloat in all of this, if they wanted to really thrive according to their own standards, then they needed other people.

After all, there was a reason why Joja hated unions more than anything. Community is how they can fill in their lack of capitals.

The world remained the same, but they were already a different person.

And instead of looking back they could just move forward.

“Guess this is where Joja’s ridiculously complicated standards for their suppliers actually turned out to be helpful for both of us, then?” Basil said rhetorically, flashing their teeth. “In that case, I’ll take your generosity. Do you have any catalogues for farming supplies?” 

“Well, by all means.” Carefully, with the clipboard tucked under his armpit, Pierre pushed his glasses up by their bridge. “I think we will be very good neighbors, Farmer Basil.”

As rays of spring sun shone through the windows, the clear lens seemed to glint.

******

Basil just finished putting all the seeds and assorted bottles they bought into their small backpack—eyeing the larger one sold on Pierre’s counter at the same time—when the music from the room beside them faded and not replaced with another. Abruptly, they turned right to stare at the wall.

“Do you want to go inside next time, Farmer Basil?” A Sales Smile was now firmly attached on Pierre’s face, but the slight curve on his eyebrows suggested a genuine amusement. “The ladies of this town gather on Tuesday for a little aerobics. Pretty bangin’ jam, don’t you agree?”

With the calm quickly soothing the worst of the mental strain, the farmer could only shyly nod. “It seems quite lively here from what I saw so far.”

“It could be better, but I agree,” said Pierre while he deftly counted the gold coins in groups of five. “Between Shane, Leah, and Elliott—all new additions here—both our economy and community have definitely shown a steady uptick throughout last year. Of course, if you’ll excuse me being selfish, your presence here is the one that excites me the most.”

“I’ll try to do my part, then,” said the youth, slinging the full backpack around their shoulders.

The back door opened with a groan and a group of women came out, freshly sweating and having a pleasant talk with each other.

“Oh, Basil!” called Robin. “It’s good to see you here!”

Basil waved back, and quickly, or as quick as it could be with a bunch of housewives, they introduced themselves.

A green haired woman was the first. “Hello! You must be the new farmer. I’m Caroline, and as you see, my husband runs the general store here.” Pierre practically beamed at her words. “And have you met my daughter, Abigail? She’s the pale one with the purple hair. Your hair kind of reminded me of hers.”

 “Oh! You aren’t exactly how I imagined…but that’s okay! I’m Jodi,” said a woman with a long, braided hair, tapping a damp towel all over her face. “It’s a quiet little town, so it’s very exciting when someone new comes in! Having a farmer around could really change things.”

“Ah, Mayor Lewis told me you just arrived. I’m Marnie!” said a short woman with an earthy feel around her. “I sell livestock and animal products at my ranch. You should swing by some time!”

Lastly, a blue-haired woman younger than everyone else pulled them into a sweaty hug, one Basil returned with only the slightest bit of surprise. Part of it was her training outfit; in contrast to the rest of the women, she was a beautiful mess of colors. “Ooh! I can read it in your face, you’re going to love it here in Pelican Town. I’m Emily.”

“I’m Basil. It’s nice to meet you!” they said while pulling back.

Before they could detach themselves fully, however, Emily looked at them up and down with an appreciative hum. “You look really nice, by the way! I love how spring you are.”

Slightly flustered and grinning, the farmer scratched their unicorn hair. “Thank you! I hope it’s not too much?”

“Oh, most definitely not! I particularly love how you’re using the daffodil as accent,” said Emily, tugging their hand. “Have you met my sister? Haley?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you should meet her then!” With a cheerful enthusiasm, the blue-haired girl began pulling them away from the counter. “Bye, girls! See you soon!”

Basil barely managed to wave goodbye at the crowd before they exited the store.

Together, they ran past the clinic, taking the stairs towards a big, abandoned building. Instead of approaching, they headed straight to a stone fountain where a beautiful blonde was looking at her DSLR camera. Basil almost thought her a tourist, partially because her bored face evoked images of a runway model on the catwalk, looking perpetually miserable from their harsh lifestyle or a weird understanding about what a smolder looked like. But no, the reason was because her wedge sandals, blue camisole, and pink pleated skirt had no business in a small town like this. If memory served they were also branded goods, 'designed' by one of those multi-hyphenated celebrity and sold in very limited places.

Also, Alex was crouching rather close beside her.

“Haley! Alex!” shouted Emily as they approached the fountain. “Have you met Basil?”

Alex beamed as he looked at them and BASIL DID NOT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANT.

“Oh, hey again, dude!” greeted Alex as he stood up and gave a light punch on their shoulder.

“Really? Alex? Dude?” said Hot Girl beside him with a pretty severe eyeroll. Was that a _use the proper pronoun_ thing or _are you sure this is a dude_ thing?

Basil surely have no idea, and neither could they find out because the moment Emily released their hand, Alex slung his toned bicep around their shoulder and pulled them close. “So! Have you met my grandma? Is her checkup going well?”

“Yes! And yes.” Basil said, making vague gesture with both hands. “Her checkup was going well when I barged in and then she told me to call her Granny. She’s really nice.”

“That’s Abuela for you,” said Alex so close with a grin devoid of cockiness. Basil had to draw a sharp breath. “So, are you ready for that practice?”

“Practice? What prac— _Oh_!” Basil laughed in an uneven ha-ha- _ha_. “I don’t _know_! I might _be_?” Again, what are words.

“Actually,” Emily interrupted, “If Basil doesn’t mind, I’m planning to take him to—“

“Them, sis,” droned Haley, not even looking away from her admittedly nice fingernails, painted in a shade of cream and peach. “I think the farmer uses them as pronouns. Not that it’s any of my business.”

Another pleasant surprise.

“I’m so sorry, Basil!” said Emily, apology clear in her voice. The farmer just stretched their lips at Emily because what are emotions when Alex’s big, buff body was leaning onto you. She coughed once before vaguely glaring back at the unperturbed blonde. “Regardless, Haley, don’t be so rude. You haven’t even introduced yourself.”

Haley glanced at Basil. “Oh…well. You’re that new farmer or whatever. Aren’t you?” A shrug, and she returned her attention to her soft hands, spreading them wide open and turning them left and right.

“Haaaleey.”

“Huh? Oh…I’m Haley. Hmm…” And then she gave Basil another onceover, only hers was done with squinted eyebrows and a vague frown on her pretty face, and Basil was not surprised at all with the words coming out from her mouth. “If it weren’t for those horrendous clothes you might actually be pretty… Actually, nevermind.”

“Oh, Haley,” mumbled Emily as she facepalmed.

“Hales, come on,” drawled Alex, leaning onto the farmer’s smaller shoulder as he looked downwards. “Don’t listen to her, dude. Haley’s just a bitch when it comes to fashion although yikes, that’s _really_ an old pair of shoes you’re wearing there.”

Basil, meanwhile, just took everything in stride and gave an easy smile. Strange how it took a nonplussed comment to snap them back into function. “It really is, but now that I live in a farm, there’s really no reason to dirty my good shoes so soon, isn’t there?” They looked nice. They felt nice. That was enough. “But I also admit of being experimental with all of this, so thanks for the input, Haley. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, at least the daffodil’s a nice touch,” Haley shrugged, her lips curving slightly downwards.

A pause.

“So… Are you Alex’s girlfriend?” asked Basil without thinking and HOLY SHIT.

There were more pauses, leaving the fountain and the rustling branches to speak inbetween the silence, and then together Alex released his grip on Basil’s shoulders and groaned loudly while Haley burst out laughing.

“Oh, dude, why d’ya have to—“

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Is something wrong…?” whimpered Basil to Emily, face frozen in a painful grimace while pondering the logistics of burying themselves in their brand new farm.

Emily just shook her head and sighed. “Nothing, it’s just… They were boyfriend and girlfriend…once.”

“It happened during highschool,” added Haley. “The most stereotypical shit. Homecoming King and Queen, the captain of the gridball team and the head cheerleader.”

“Worst month ever,” finished Alex. “We’re better off as friends, really.”

“Oh….I’m sorry,” said Basil, who was not sorry at all.

At this, Haley looked at the farmer, and Basil decided that they liked her frowning better because her smile was incredibly knowing and even more incredibly predatory. “Why the question, by the way?”

And they were absolutely running out of mind power to bullshit a good enough reason.

“AAAAAAAAAH come to think about it, I still need to introduce myself around. Where are you planning to take me again, Emily?” Basil shouted, giving zero chance for anyone to speak as they turned towards the blue-haired woman and hooked their arm around hers like they were already friends.

For her part, Emily tightened their lock, confused as she was. “Er, um, the saloon? I mean, that’s where I work, so if you’re looking for something to do in the evening—“

“Yes! Yes. I haven’t been to the saloon. In fact, please take me there _right now_ ,” said the farmer, tugging her in return and pulling her away from the fountain. There were just too much happening today and their brain was going to melt the longer they stayed with Alex or Haley and nope. Just nope. “Bye Alex! Bye Haley! It’s a pleasure to meet you both and I’ll see you soon!”

“Wait, Basil—“

Emily couldn’t manage to say anything else before the farmer dragged her away in the matter of seconds, exhilarated and freaking out and free from Joja’s grasp. There are so much they can do here. There are so much they can do.

The world remained the same, but they were already a different person.

And instead of looking back they could just move forward.

******

Meanwhile, Alex and Haley blankly stared at each other.

“I wonder what happened,” said the jock, frowning slightly at where the new farmer had been standing beside him.

Haley made a sound in the back of her throat and bit the growing smile off her own glossed lips, glancing at the larger man as she answered his question. “Well, someone’s been thirsty all right.”

“Well, I guess. They had been running around town for a while after all. Your sister does serve a mean beverage in the saloon.”

As expected, Alex caught absolutely nothing. Her longtime friend might be Hot with a capital H but there was really nothing inside his handsome face. Haley sighed, long and suffering. It was always kind of a pity, really.

And then Alex spoke again, dragging one hand down a side of his face. “It’s just— If they told me, I could have brought them some water.” He looked away, and from the corner of her eye, Haley could see that he was sulking.

The blonde blinked a few times before turning her face properly at her friend. A sulking Alex was quite a rare sight.  “So are you thirsty too?”

“What are you talking about, Hales, I hydrate myself constantly.”

“Sure.” Haley snorted out a laugh, amused and graceless.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “Just me thinking that this year’s gonna be fun.”

“Really?”

Without realizing it, Alex looked up and smiled. It was not the sky he wanted to see, and this was not the place he ought to be, but for some unknown reason the blue sky above them looked so vivid. Taking a deeper breath brought to him a whisper of an unfamiliar scent alongside the sweet smell of daffodils.

“I think so too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, I'm cutting the introduction short.
> 
> More canon divergence! For one, people _usually_ showers and they _usually_ uses shampoos and soaps, so I'm trying to transfer that normalcy into the world of Stardew Valley. In process I think I ended up adding some characteristic for Pierre, so yay. 
> 
> Speaking about Pierre, I recognize he's being pretty sinister here. I couldn't help latching on TVTropes' less than wholesome interpretation of Pierre and it kind of bleeds here but at the same time I think someone who can survive going mano-a-mano with a fictional Walmart would have more than just a can-do attitude and optimism. (The research for this chapter was pretty interesting on this part.)
> 
> On the second part, I think it's kind of strange for someone to just stand on one spot for an extended period of time. And it's also strange for Alex and Haley to never hung out together except in summer when they were supposed to be close with each other.
> 
> I made Emily into the one misgendering Basil because I think that innocent gaffe was something she'd do, while with Haley....it'd just feel like her being a bitch. And you can definitely be a bitch without misgendering. And if you noticed, I had decided that the Mullners are Hispanic here, based on the Hispanic Alex mod. I'm not that familiar with Hispanic culture so I'll try to keep the reference minimal, but I'm just putting things out here to be clear.
> 
> Basil's slowly enjoying the taste of their own feet. At the same time whee ship sinking. This is admittedly a pet peeve.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! C&C are very much welcomed!
> 
> Next, we'll get a glimpse of how Basil's days go.


	7. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Some musings about family reactions re: coming out. Explained a bit further in the end notes.
> 
> Hello!
> 
> So sorry for not updating this fic for quite a while; for a long time I actually struggled to figure out a lot of things about this story. Did a lot of research. Ended up reading a lot about _isekai_ genre, about which I have quite a few thoughts now.
> 
> I think I'm getting a better grasp now, so have a little Basil-focused interlude for now <3

_The subway leading to the office had always been especially rickety these days._

_People had complained and petitioned the local government for a much-needed repair, but of course nothing ever happened. It’s the war, they all said. Stop whining and think of the brave heroes of the nation, suffering in the conflict nobody really asked for. All of these people might as well scream to a well-padded wall. That would be much more beneficial._

_Meanwhile the city held another gala dinner; invited even more celebrities to come. Fitted bespoke tuxedos and dazzling diamonds draped over deep-cut dresses. Last year’s has-beens mingled with this year’s rising stars. A night of dreams._

_But enough rambling. Nothing would be done if they just sat in the rattling car, and that would mean another day of unpaid overtime._

_Basil started marking their own tests._

_One by one, they circled the right answers and crossed the wrong ones. Math, literature, even one of those history essays Mrs. Kong liked to give in lieu of actual tests. Penciled dots and chains of letters dripped all over the paper, and Basil had to tilt the paper against the rough motions of the car just so nothing would spill on the floor. That would mean picking them up and who the fuck knows who or what sort of things had been on this rusted subway floor._

_They had to wince when they saw the crosses on their math tests, all twenty of them fluttering like butterflies on the paper. They had always been real bad at math. The rest were decent enough, but nothing particularly special. All their own work, though. Ammamma would be proud of that, and Basil would be proud of her pride._

_Too bad she had passed away. Basil missed her something fierce._

_The papers start flying away, splashing some passengers with numbers and letters. They hissed and cursed, but Basil knew the people of Zuzu would do much worse if they got the chance. Ignoring the growing ache on their muscles, Basil kept their hand moving. Three more papers. Two more papers. One more paper._

_Five more papers, and they would be done. Four more papers. Three more papers. Go, Basil, go. After that—_

After that?

What happens after that?

******

With an incandescent feeling of _what the fuck_ , Basil reached full consciousness in just a blink of an eye. Despite, or maybe because of the dampness of their shirt, the night air became a touch more chilling on their skin. It was not the worst feeling but neither was it the best.

The silence, however, made their still-aching muscles tensed all the sudden, a subconscious anticipation towards something unpleasant. Like someone was really angry and was prepared to unleash hell on them.

Basil stretched their body a couple of times and got up from the bed, wincing when their bare feet brushed over the cold wooden floor. There was no smartphone to check the time, but they must have woken up too early because no light was passing through the cottage’s windows.

Right, they also lived in a cottage now.

One of these days they would get to clean up all this mess, honest. After their muscles stopped aching. Blindly, kicking away clothes both new and used, they staggered like a penguin towards the door. The moment it opened, a soothing scent blasted over the sharpness of their own sweat, smelling _green_ , if that made sense.

Holding the surrounding rails in a deathly grip, Basil went behind their house before furtively doing their business. Then they stopped at the porch and sat down, gazing at the darkness ahead.

The moon above wasn’t even halfway lit—all the farmer could see were dark outlines of things. Their hands. Their feet. The small and steadily growing farm, swaying gently along the wind. Trees older than anything on this farm caged the place, tall and silent and strong, and who knew what lies in-between those. A primordial kind of feeling whispered deep in their DNA; sinister images of tusks and fangs and claws, of _blood_ , and the youth felt an inadvertent shiver crawled up their spine.

But at least it wasn’t all silence. Against the rustling trees, a hooting could be faintly heard. That evoked a different feeling from the usual annoyance they got when the neighboring television droned on with their late night news. This felt like something big; an overwhelming _presence_ as opposed to small ripples from other people’s actions.

This made the youth recall all the times they had to stay with their father’s extended family. Back then air conditioners were still a luxury, so sometimes a roomful of children had to sleep pressed side by side. Once woken—by a similar need to go to the bathroom or by a stray kick to the face—there was no way to go back to sleep, so Basil would carefully cross the room towards the open window and let the night air take away some of the oppressive dampness surrounding them.

Once there, Basil would burn the time watching the neighboring houses, imagining scenarios after scenarios that grew increasingly ridiculous until dawn came and someone in the house woke up. Usually it was their mother. Amma always got a lot to do.

Basil had to smile at that memory. They kind of missed the hubbub.

Weird, because it had been a long while. Basil didn’t even know what their cousins were up to these days. Didn’t add them in social media, kept their messengers tightly guarded. The youth had tastefully distanced themselves ever since they came out to Amma and Appa. Even their sudden move to Pelican Town was intentionally told with a letter, taking advantage of the time gap to let themselves settle here first.

Basil wondered if Amma and Appa would deign to send a response. Maybe not, just as how they tactfully refused to reveal anything about their queerness to Appa’s family. Less shaming. Less drama. Let the others fill in the blanks by themselves. Besides, Amma never liked Pelican Town. Understandably.

Still the thought stung, which was just selfish considering how they had the better coming out amongst their generation. Still.

Basil curled slightly inward and pressed their cheek onto their knees. They were _not_ pouting. The farmer just failed to see any use in missing a past long gone.

By now the small farm had expanded twofold from its initial size, its crops slowly growing. The parsnips in particular were looking very ready for harvest with the bunching grasses jutting high. Once they were done, Basil could start buying more seeds, not to mention some very important essentials. Their body shivered in delight at the prospect of good coffee and some real food.

The rest of the introduction also went surprisingly well. Sure, there was Shane and George, but Basil would recognize that glum pair of eyes haunting the former anytime and the latter seemed to hate everyone and everything all the same. Nothing personal; everything’s fine, even better than their expectations. And now the youth was granted a fucking _free checkup_ , practically paid by Joja, which was a wet dream _and_ irony of the greatest magnitude up until last winter.

Meanwhile stacked near the bottom of the stairs were long blocks of timber, proof of their progress in clearing the forest path. The stones and weeds were still left untouched, but they would get tackled sometime before the next batch of seeds was planted. Those wild seeds were just too profitable to ignore.

There were so much they had done. So much they could do. Life in here may not be all peaches and cream, but it was so easy to directly witness the fruits of their actions. That was more than what they could say about their past.

After years of dreadful mornings, Basil actually looked forward for today.

So, as the wind continued to sing a hushed whisper and the earth continued its rotation, this time Basil burned their time by imagining all the things they could do in Stardew Valley.

Still alone, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basil didn't exactly have the worst coming out for a LGBTQ+ person, but neither was their experience the best. Their family just basically kinda kept it to themselves. On one hand yay privacy, but on the other hand it does feel like everything was being swept under the rug.
> 
> Do not worry, the canon letters would still be coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from [Utada Hikaru's song](https://www.lyrical-nonsense.com/lyrics/utada-hikaru/shittosarerubeki-jinsei/).


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